Saturday, November 7, 2009


Masses unassuming
Sound waves in light speed movement
Infused with sonic boom
Judgment comes
On your ear drum
Nomadic audio tribe
Traveling the sky's horizon
Our demise is to trod on
People of the positively charged electron
Metatron waits at the gate
Zion is not a place
It's the vibe we create
In the valley of dry bones
We dance on Babylon's ruins
Primordial humans
We pass through
The spiral vortex
Of physical existence
Substance worthless
Without Purpose
Focus the minds eye
On your crystalline
Body of light
Night is the path
Of astral travel
Leave out of this
Shallow grave
Bass saves twenty-three

In addition, an essay by Elze Mergler on the 'subculture' tekno

Grab it here (writeup in dutch)